"I would not do such a thing, Green," he said softly. "Even though this is not the entire path I seek for my life, I have always felt it the moral responsibility of fathers to care for their own children."
She held back the tears attempting to fill her eyes. He was exactly as she thought. There was a strong, caring passion within him. His rebelliousness was accompanied with a sense of honor. She had seen that when he refused to disrespect his grandmother. "You are my treasure, wilding."
Jorlan took a shaky breath. His palms cupped her face as well. "As you are mine. But, Green... "
"Yes?"
"I don't forgive you."
"I know."
The next day, Green and Avatar discussed the best course of action.
While Green wanted to return to Tamryn Hall, both agreed that would not be the wisest thing to do. Word would get out they were there and they would all be called before the Septibunal at once.
So Green elected to remain at Tamryn Lane.
This new Tamryn would be the first in countless generations not to be born at Tamryn Hall.
Green dispatched a missive to Duchene Hawke informing her that she was indeed with child and indicated vague complications. That factor, she wrote, plus the situation on her estate, precluded her return for several months.
Duchene Hawke responded in couched terms that she would indicate such to the Septibunal. The hearing would be postponed.
A later missive followed confirming the postponement with the added note that She-Count D'anbere seemed especially furious with their decision to wait. Again, Green thanked the Duchene for letting her know what was happening. The woman was close to overstepping her impartiality as head of the Septibunal and Green was grateful.
So the weeks passed.
In the beginning. Green was devastatingly tired and slept a good portion of the days, waking only to eat, and to take very short walks with Avatar, who filled her in on what was happening on her estates as well as her business interests.
Jorlan, she had discovered, had an amazing acuity for the workings of the plantation and its systems; he had already laid out several new plans for the irrigation routes, designed three improved storage facilities, which would largely increase their ability to harvest and properly store the crop, thus increasing their profit yield. What was more, he had proposed that they realign their planting cycle to a table he had set forth. He claimed it to be better for the hukka, as it coincided to the rhythms of Forus.
Green had it implemented at once. When Avatar questioned her about it, she simply smiled and said, "Do it."
The crop began to flourish. As it matured under the benevolent eye of Arkeus, so did Jorlan, away from the constrictures of the Select Quarter. The gently rustling plains of the Hadley Tip awakened his sense of being. This mostly ungoverned, open land accessed his deepest nature. In the Marquelle's temporarily diminished capacity, no one questioned his role in overseeing the plantation.
In fact. Green instructed her people to listen to him as they would to her. Jorlan loved her for that, and he quickly came to love Tamryn Lane as well.
Often, at night, he took long solitary walks across the moors. Green watched his silhouette crossing the fields, Arkeus-shine lighting his way. When he returned, late in the night, he would slip into bed, chill and damp from his excursion. He would gather her to him as she slept, letting her heat warm his bare skin.
They had to cease sexual relations until Green entered the next level of the natal acceleration, and even after that such activity would be restricted. One of the drawbacks of the natal accelerator was that almost all of a woman's energy was directed toward the growth of the fetus. Overall, it was not much of a sacrifice, since it cut the time of gestation down so drastically.
Of course, it was vital that Green take acceleration supplements. If not, the nutrients the rapidly growing child needed would be taken from her own body's store, and without such supplements the rapid growth cycle could quickly turn dangerous. Even so, the waiting was difficult for Jorlan. When he slept and his control lessened, his Sensitive's nature rose within him. The lightly perfumed scent of her skin and the brushes of her ripe body next to him made him ache. Often at night, he would awaken in a sheen of sweat. Always hard and throbbing.
A few times Green had awakened as well, and, noticing his state, had relieved him of his misery in a very essential way.
Through their open balcony, his raw moans drifted across the night fields, becoming part of the sultry southern breezes.
The season of the southern arc storms was coming. A band of ore-rock rimmed the mesa they had traveled through. Soon it would be ablaze every night with the dazzling lights of arc strikings. A curtain of ragged fire, slicing the sky. Just one of the dangerous, unexplained beauties of Forus moon.
One night, near to the time of the arc storms, Jorlan went out for one of his solitary walks and returned riding a Klee. Green had heard its thundering pace as it galloped across the land, and she had come to the balcony to see what was happening.
Jorlan was astride the beast. They thundered across the plains, through the fields of hukka. Firewings flitted all around him in tiny bursts of glittering light, their fragile iridescent wings beating in cadence to his unbridled ride. In the distance an arc zigzagged across the sky to the ground, where it connected to an ore-rock with a small explosion. Klee and man raced faster. Wild and elemental.
In fact, the scene was so untamed that Green watched half frozen in fear for Jorlan, yet spellbound at the sheer unfettered beauty of it.
Sabir knows he can race the arcs with me if he wishes... He knows I will stay with him all the way... Green remembered Jorlan's strange words. Was that what he was doing with this Klee? Why? What did it really mean?
She bit her lip as she observed them. Another arc split the sky. The strange Klee reared up and roared in triumph. Jorlan threw his head back and did the same.
What were they celebrating?
Chapter Fourteen
The Klee, which Jorlan called Shringa, made itself part of Tamryn Lane.
In other words, available to Jorlan. It rested on a nice bed of tilla leaves whenever it decided to, and ate whenever it wanted to.
Kibbee was insanely jealous and spent a great deal of time spitting and prawking loudly in protest—to the point where several of Miara's women threatened to take the Kloo out and use her for target practice.
One day, just as Green was beginning to enter her second accelerated trimester, Mathers showed up at their door with Hugo in tow.
Green was shocked. "Mathers, what are you doing here?"
The old majordoma lifted her chin pugnaciously. "I've been present for your mother's birth and yours, Marquelle. That's two generations of Tamryns. I'll be damned if I'm going to miss the coming of the next heir! I brought the Tamryn sash with me for you to drape over her when she's born."
Green shook her head and smiled at her fondly, hugging the old dear. How had she ever endured such a grueling trip? "Mathers, you shouldn't have."
Hugo was vastly excited to see them. Tails wagging furiously, he scampered over to Green, whereupon his little head bobbed all around her, sniffing and checking. His little head hovered over her rounded stomach, then let out a series of happy yips.
Jorlan strolled into the room, grinning as he saw them. "I thought I recognized those braying yelps." Hugo ran to him, circling around him excitedly. Jorlan obligingly petted the bobbing head.
"Hugo's a noisy thing, isn't he, though?" Mathers watched the pup with patient amusement.
"Hugo?" Jorlan looked over at the maJordoma innocently. "I was referring to you, Mathers." He tried keep a straight face.
"Phssst!" Mathers waved her hand, chuckling. "Peace with you, now, Marqueller. I'm on to your sassy tricks."
"Are you?" He stroked his jaw. "Then I suppose I u just have to come up with some new ones. Can't have you second-guessing me."
Mathers agreed. "Right so, Marqueller."
They both grinned
at each other.
"And I suppose I'll have to keep an eye on both of you." Green waddled over to a chair and sank into it.
"What's all this commotion about?" Avatar strode into the room like a general on patrol. Hugo sat up on his hind legs and issued a strange gurgle-plat sound. Presumably a snogglehound respectful greeting of sorts.
"By the Founder! Not him."
Avatar acted irritated by the pup, but Jorlan had caught the irascible advisor sneaking tidbits to him on more than one occasion.
"Ah, he's not that bad, once you get used to his odd ways," Mathers replied.
"'You're defending Hugo?" Jorlan was shocked.
"I wasn't speaking of Hugo," Mathers shot back.
Jorlan's eyes danced. He threw her one of the hand signals she had taught him.
"Jorlan!" Green was shocked. She turned an accusing look on to Mathers, who looked at the ceiling.
Avatar rolled her eyes and put up her hands to stop the squabbling that was sure to start. "There's enough of that! Tell us, Mathers, what are news from Capitol Town?"
Mathers gave a discreet glance at Jorlan, saying, "Oh, the usual nonsense: She-Count Lazara has been making a play for Marquelle Juene's youngest son, much to her horror. The Marquelle can't abide Lazara's drinking ways, but after all, she's also got five other snip-butts to fasten-off, though he be the best looking of the bunch, which isn't saying much." All of the Juene boys had wispy hair and thin lips. "If you ask me, she should take the offer and be glad of it." Mathers loved to gossip.
"True." Avatar concurred.
"Rumor has it that D'anbere is after that pleasurer River Carmel." Mathers gave Green a meaningful look. Green's hand went to her throat. River.
"Did—did he accept?"
Jorlan's acute gaze watched his name-giver.
"No. They say he actually tossed her out the door of that place he lives at on the Rue de la Nuit."
"That must have endeared him to the Slice," Avatar grumbled.
Mathers shrugged. "D'anbere is not well liked. Besides, it's known he's under the protection of a powerful She-Lord. Most think She-Count D'anbere was out of line."
Green nodded but knew that River was in grave danger. She needed to send a message to him to watch his back lest he find a D'anbere blade in it.
Jorlan stroked Hugo's head as he listened to the byplay. He was not fooled. He knew that River was—had been—Green's pleasurer. He couldn't stop the blister of jealousy that rose in his throat. He hated to think of her with him in the past, although he understood that women had their needs and couldn't be expected to wait for fastening as men did.
Mathers turned to Jorlan. "Your friend, the one that was at your fastening, got himself bid on."
He raised an eyebrow. "Lymax? Who bid on him?"
"She-Lord Baringer." Mathers winked at him.
Jorlan grinned. Baringer was a kindly, quiet She-Lord, who preferred country life and vid-tomes to the mad bustle of the Select Quarter in Capitol Town. His friend had lucked out after all. He was happy for him.
"We can go visit them when we return, if you like, Jorlan. I rather like She-Lord Baringer and her estate is only a day's journey from Tamryn House."
"I would like that, Green." He smiled at her. "Good. Now, if you don't mind, Jorlan, I want Mathers to bring me up to crack on business matters at Tamryn House. I'll see you at supper?"
He had been summarily dismissed. His cheeks bronzed slightly. It was not like Green to do this. "Yes, of course." He left the room with Hugo tracing his steps.
Avatar watched his departure. "I think you hurt that lad's feelings, Marquelle."
Green sighed. "I know; it couldn't be helped. I will make it up to him later. Now tell me, Mathers, what is really going on?"
"Well, that snip-butt D'anbere is stirring up the Slice but good! She's started a rumor that Jorlan lied at the Ritual of Proof and you were a party to it."
"That high-held hock-top!" Avatar bristled.
Green frowned. "I thought she might do something like this."
"Once she found out you were carrying the babe, stories started surfacing that your line could be tarnished by Jorlan's lack of innocence. I tell you, Marquelle, it's a right kloobroth being kicked up. And it's working, too—the Slice is up in arms about it. They want to know why you won't come forward right away to dismiss the tales."
"That's exactly what she's trying to do—make me come forward now, before my child is born! Well, she'll just have to wait and so will the Slice! Once my heir is here, Claudine's position will be weakened."
"Let's pray it's an heir." Avatar gave her a meaningful look.
"I just wish I knew what evidence she has... " Green sighed as she patted her swollen belly.
"You might have to give up Jorlan, Green," Avatar warned her. "The action would probably appease the Septibunal enough so they at least won't strip your titles and lands."
"No! I would never do such a thing. Jorlan is a Tamryn, and a Tamryn he will remain! If we are to be taken down, it shall be together."
"Claudine claims a prior bid on him." Mathers interacted. "Says you stole him from her. The snip-butt even hinted that he was hers in anticipation of the fastening. That waggering She-Lord has set her sights on our lad. She will never let it be."
"Her claim to him was false; I'll never let her have him. I stopped her before—I'll stop her now." Avatar and Mathers nodded in agreement. "The night Anya agreed to disregard Claudine's offer and sign my scroll, I promised her I would always take care of him. Despite the threat that Claudine had over her, the Duchene gave him to me, knowing I was the only one to safeguard him from Claudine. His life and well-being have always been in danger from her. I would never let Jorlan down, nor the Duchene. The Tamryns guard their own."
Avatar and Mathers concurred by banging their fists together.
Jorlan leaned back against the scratchy bark of the Dreamtree, which nestled against the house.
He closed his eyes, exhaling its illusory scent. Their fastening was being brought into question. Why hadn't she told him?
Because she hadn't wanted to worry him. Green. Green. She had been protecting him all along! Why had he not seen it? Her sense of honor staggered him and his heart filled with raw emotion. He had never known such a brave woman. Silently, and without fanfare, she protected all under her title, taking care of him just as she did for everyone and everything under the Tamryn banner. He loved her for that strength.
But he resented her for it, too. His heart fell.
Green's actions were motivated not by love but by duty. She treated him as she did everything that came under her protection. No more and no less.
She cared for him because she considered him a Tamryn—not because she harbored a special affection for him.
He was not happy with this revelation, yet... he also had a belief in himself. He could turn her around. He could make her see him as more. As an equal, vital part of her life.
But only if he took that final step—
Only if he truly opened himself to her.
And that was a big risk.
Despite the outcome, he would never accept the role he had been forced to play in their society, even if he had to come to terms with it.
As the days wore on, and the time of the birthing grew near, Green became more listless. The Southern Region was not the best choice in which to have a child; the climate was much more hot and humid than in Capitol Town. As the sweltering days of summer passed and her time was imminent, Jorlan surprised her with his care. He often rubbed her back in the early morning as they lay in bed together and seemed overly concerned with her welfare.
Although he never spoke of the child, once, when he thought she was sleeping, he lightly ran his hand over the mound of her stomach.
Green wondered what he was thinking. What he was feeling.
Their relationship, while not strained, had changed. Not only did they have to abstain from traditional intercourse, but, since the night Mathers had shown
up, Jorlan seemed to draw deeper into himself. It was as if he was wrestling with some momentous decision.
One morning at dawn Green awoke feeling peculiar in a way she couldn't define. She turned to find Jorlan staring at the rising Arkeus, the jet fringe of lashes shielding his eyes. "Our child will come today."
Green sucked in her breath, her hands patting her bulging middle, which seemed to have recently dropped lower. "You're sure?" She never asked him how or why. Sometimes Jorlan just knew things.
"Yes."
"Fine. Then could you send Mathers to me? She'd be terribly disappointed if she missed even a minute of this."
Jorlan smiled faintly, and tossing the covers out of the way, got out of bed. He started to leave, then paused, turning around slowly. "Would you like me to stay with you?"
She viewed him speculatively. "Name-bearers generally don't, you know. They normally are allowed in afterward when things are tidied up a bit. Most don't have the—you'll pardon the pun—stomach for it."
He made a wincing face at her terrible play on words. "I would like to be there. Green. With you."
He always amazed her. How could she turn down such a heartfelt request? He wanted to see his child come into the world. "We'll call for you when it gets near. As soon as the real pains start, Mathers will induce the neural block. Go get something to eat now while you can." She grinned up at him. "It's bound to get pretty hectic around here, later."
He bent down to brush her lips with his. "Are you excited?" he whispered.
"Oh, yes!" She paused then peered up at him. "What about you?"
The aqua eyes bore into her. "I am excited about a new life, yes."
The rest he left unsaid.
Her birthing pains came quickly. Mathers, who had found out about the lack of a methodologist in the region, had wisely brought a neural block. Green was unendingly grateful. Jorlan was called for shortly thereafter, when the birthing was imminent.
Avatar and Mathers stared agog at the Marqueller.
"What is he doing in here, Marquelle?" Avatar bristled. "This is no place for a squeamish man! They haven't the stomach for it!"